


Angel

by stoven (orphan_account)



Series: Trope Bingo 2018 [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes as Captain America, Concussions, Kissing, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Role Reversal, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 12:19:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17223977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/stoven
Summary: There’s a man in the hallway, pacing, his head down, and a small assortment of flowers in his hand. It’s not quite a bouquet, maybe an arrangement. Steve takes a few steps closer, not sure why this man is in front of his door. But then Steve sees his face, and his stomach drops out, and his heart is lodged in his throat, because it’s Captain Fucking America in front of his door.





	Angel

**Author's Note:**

> written for the prompt 'role reversal' for trope-bingo on dreamwidth

It’s seven o’clock when Steve emerges from his bedroom on Saturday morning, in nothing but a hoodie and boxers. His daily vitamins and medications are all lined up on the kitchen counter, which he dutifully takes before pouring some milk and cereal, and settling on the couch with breakfast. His apartment is not the greatest, but the window faces the sunrise which is nice sometimes. These days, Steve focuses more on digital art, but the natural light is good for when he can get around to paining. The standing easel is there, in the corner opposite the television, but he hasn’t used it in months.

The cereal bowl sits on his lap now, nearly empty— just the soggy bit left at the bottom, when his phone pings. He picks it up to the see the notification, because usually he can tell what app it’s from based on the little icon, but this one is unusual. When he brings it closer, it’s an emergency alert. Before he even gets the chance to start reading it properly, something crashes through the apartment.

Yes, Steve _screams._ His cereal bowl goes flying and smashes onto the floor, soggy milk and all, cell phone lost to the void, and he startles and scrambles over the back of the couch. He was not expecting anything to suddenly break a hole through his wall and shatter his window and leave an honest to god _dent_ in his hardwood flooring. It looks like a meteor crash landed into his apartment. But Steve knows it’s not a meteor, because it’s Captain Fucking America on his living room floor. The Greek God from the 40’s, James Barnes— frozen in ice, and then resurrected, or something, Steve was never clear on the details and couldn’t be bothered to google it for longer than 5 minutes.

The dust from the drywall is still settling and it's hard not to breathe it in. Steve scrambles for the inhaler in his pocket, takes a puff, and puts his sleeve over his mouth as he slowly approaches. He has to carefully make his way through the glass and wall debris, not to mention the splintered wood of the floor itself. Steve finally crouches next to Captain Fucking America, who is face down and not moving.

“Jesus Fucking Christ,” Steve breathes, trying to turn him over onto his back. Steve gets him maybe halfway before the super soldier groans, turns the rest of the way over on his own, breathing hard through his nose. His jaw looks clenched hard, and his helmet is cracked straight through. Steve tries to take it off to look at the damage— God, does he even want to be doing this? Sure enough there’s a head wound somewhere, though Steve can’t quite see where it is, but there’s a lot of blood. “Holy shit— are you okay? Hey,” Steve says, a bit manic and patting Captain America’s face. Even beat to shit he’s so handsome, Jesus Christ.

Captain America opens his eyes, dark and soft and so, so blue. Steve looks into his eyes and kind of forgets for a whole ten seconds his apartment is kind of destroyed and this man is bleeding from his head. Then, Captain America kisses him. Literally, reaches up, and brings his mouth to Steve’s. The leather from his gloves feels a little rough but not uncomfortable, and his lips are warm and soft and Steve’s heart stutters at the feeling. It’s just a chaste kiss, and Captain America pulls his head back, cradled in the remains of his helmet.

“I think you— think you hit your head,” Steve says stupidly.

Captain America groans and sits up, his shoulders are broad, and he’s pretty tall and built and well, perfect really. Isn’t that what everyone says about him? But the way he moves his body, goes from sitting in a crater to standing, seems so effortless.

Steve stands, too, and Captain America puts a hand on his shoulder, “You should get somewhere safe,” He says. He walks over to the hole he made, where his shield is halfway embedded in the wall, stuck there during the impact. He looks back once at Steve, before he honest to god _leaps_ from the 5th story.

Steve stands there dumbly, not quite sure what just happened but not wanting to wake up from this dream. He makes his way back through the debris to find his phone, picks it up where it narrowly missed the milk puddle and bowl shards. The pounding on his door makes him jump and God Dammit he’s not gonna make it through the rest of the day if this keeps up.

It’s his neighbors, frantic, “Steven, Steven did you get the alert? Are you alright? We all have to evacuate; hurry, now.” So Steve grabs some shoes and pants—as a New Yorker he should be used to alien attacks by now, and there’s no way he’s going to an emergency shelter in just his boxer shorts—and heads down with the rest of the residents to evacuation point. He tries his best to focus on his current situation, instead of the kiss with Captain Fucking America.

———

All in all, the incident wasn’t too serious thanks to the efforts of The Avengers. Everyone in the shelter had been watching the news broadcast on the television, live. Steve could see the corner of his apartment building at one point, but it didn’t get hit again as far as it showed. Steve’s heart did a fluttering thing and his stomach swooped every time Captain America gets hit. But they contained the problem in record time with minimal casualties. The more they work together as a team, the more efficient they get at saving the day.

The day after the attack, Steve goes back to his apartment to get a bag full of his medication, some clothes, toothbrush, phone charger, etc. There’s a tarp over his wall already, which Steve counts as a plus. Steve has to stay at the evacuation shelter while they fix his apartment— and he’s not the only one who’s been displaced. But the city and his insurance are paying for it, and they say it’s not ‘major damage’ so it shouldn’t be more than a few weeks to fix. The good news about all this disaster is that at least there’s a lot of work for construction, he supposes.

Lots of the people at the shelter grumble and moan about all the damage The Avengers cause, and Steve wants to disagree. It makes his blood boil, but it’s mostly old people, and his neighbors who he doesn’t dislike, so he clenches his fists until his knuckles are white and his nails bite into his palms, and keeps his mouth shut. The news has coverage of the relief effort. He’s happy to see (most) of The Avengers helping with cleanup in some way, and his heart beats quicker and his lips tingle when he sees Captain America on the TV. Shouldn’t he be in the hospital or something? Steve bites his lips and tries to tear himself away from the news. Captain America looks tired; they all do.

On the fifth day, Steve returns to his apartment. They’ve stopped news coverage the relief effort so much. Most of it is cleaned up, except for building repairs, now. Steve’s building itself is open, there’s plenty of units that weren’t affected at all in the attack. He checks his mailbox (nothing but ads), climbs the stairs (uses his inhaler briefly on the 4th flight) and stops dead when he gets to the hallway leading to his apartment door.

There’s a man in the hallway, pacing, his head down, and a small assortment of flowers in his hand. It’s not _quite_ a bouquet, maybe an _arrangement_ . Steve takes a few steps closer, not sure why this man is in front of his door. But then Steve sees his face, and his stomach drops out, and his heart is lodged in his throat, because it’s Captain Fucking America in front of his door. Maybe Steve squeaks, maybe Captain America has really good peripherals, but he lifts his head and looks straight at Steve and looks _stunned_ . Stunned and _stunning_. He’s in civvies— but Steve wants to punch whoever gave this gorgeous man and grandpa’s wardrobe. But he’s all neat and proper in a polo and slacks and shiny shoes, and his soft, brown hair is smooth and swept back with product that makes him look beautiful.

“Oh,” says Captain America, completely unaware that Steve is kind of freaking out a little bit, wondering why he’s here, at Steve’s apartment. _With flowers_. “I— um. Hi, I’m—,” He clears his throat and steps closer, real slow, one bit at a time as he talks. “I’m… James. James Barnes.”

“I know.” Steve says, he’s not sure what else to say at this point.

“My friends call me—”

“Bucky,” Steve says over him, “You’re Bucky Barnes. Captain America.”

“Yes. Right. We met the other day.”

Steve actually laughs at that, but it comes out as more of a hysterical giggle. How did he get here, how did this happen?

“We did.” Steve says, “You kissed me.”

Captain America actually fucking _blushes_. He glances down at their shoes, then back up and holds out the arrangement in his hand. “I did,” the blush goes down his neck. “I— I thought you were an angel.”

Steve is quiet for a long moment, looking at Captain America’s blush, then his lips, then at the flowers. “Well,” He says, “You did have a pretty nasty head injury.”

Laughter bubbles out of _Bucky Barnes’_ mouth. “Yeah, a concussion actually.”

Steve takes the flowers gently in his hands, finally. “What is this?” He asks.

“Flowers.”

Steve raises an eyebrow at him but he can’t stop the smile on his lips. Bucky Barnes is standing just in front of him now. He’s tall, and his shoulder-to-waist ratio is unreal. Steve bets this guy gives the best hugs. His face gets all hot thinking about how much he wants that.

“Yes,” Steve says, “I mean, what are you doing here? Why are you here, why do you have _flowers_.”

“I wanted to apologize for knockin’ a hole in your wall, and in your floor, and kissing you when I had no right to.” He says all at once, then, a bit slower, “And I wanted to ask you out on a date.”

Steve’s ears are buzzing, or ringing, and they’re hot but so is his face and his stomach and basically his whole body because Captain America, Bucky Barnes just called him and angel and asked him out on a date.

“Um.” says Steve.

“Christ, I’m sorry, I don’t even know you, I don’t even know your name but,” and here, Bucky Barnes looks down at him and his eyes are so damn soft, “You’re the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and I’d like to take you on a date.”

Steve’s whole body is singing but he can’t quite make words happen yet. His hands are maybe shaking just a little with nerves. His grip tightens just slightly on the nice little flower bunch, and Bucky Barnes’ face is so hopeful as Steve stands there, not saying anything like an idiot. The longer the silence, the more Bucky Barnes’ face falls just little by little, such small, subtle changes. God, but he’s so expressive.

Steve finally unglues his tongue from the roof of his mouth, licks his lips; says, “My name, it’s Steve. Steve Rogers.”

And it’s possibly the best feeling in the world, making Bucky smile.

 


End file.
